The Secret Weapon
by Thayer
Summary: A boy buys time for Alex to get away from a past nemesis, taking with him the secret hiding place of a weapon that many would kill to have. But can Alex save his saviour, keep out of danger himself AND not reveal his dangerous secret?
1. The Boy

**Disclaimer: i dont own Alex Rider **

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He turned down the first corridor he found and sprinted on. His breathing was laboured already but he forced himself to keep going. If there was one thing he did not want, it was to be caught. Not by the crazed lunatics in this place.

The hallway was long and mostly empty. He became concerned about the lack of security but he didn't slow down. There was only one exit from this ancient building and that was the front door. He only had a short distance to go, he could feel it.

Finally reaching the other end of the corridor, he skidded around the corner and kept running. There was a door ahead of him, the first opening in the stainless steel walls he'd seen for a long time. Throwing a quick glance over his shoulder, he reached for the door and twisted the doorknob. It appeared that they still didn't know of his arrival – or his hasty departure. He yanked the door open and pelted through it, seeing the buildings only exit with a huge wave of relief.

He'd entered a reception area that was void of any furniture, except the receptionist's desk and chair. He dashed across the plush carpet, his booted feet making no noise. There was no one to stop him; no one knew he'd been here. Or that was what he thought.

He'd covered maybe half of the floor and was nearing the exit when suddenly the room filled with guards, all of whom were heavily armed. They surrounded the room, blocking off his escape and his retreat option. He slowed to a stop, panic flaring through him. Where had they come from?

As one, the guards all lowered their weapons, training them on his chest. He glanced fearfully from one guard to the next. He heard footsteps behind him and spun around, his eyes wide and darting. A man had come from the door he'd just used, a man that was tall and muscled and all-too familiar.

The man stalked silently over to him, his piercing blue eyes never once leaving the boys face. He reminded the boy of a lion stalking a wildebeest, all dangerous power, no mercy. Finally the man stopped in front of the boy, carefully placing his hands into his pockets.

"Why are you here boy?" the man demanded.

Almost shaking with fear but determined not to show it, the boy didn't answer.

The man sighed. "It would not be wise to ignore me."

From all around him, the boy heard countless rifles being cocked. The boy scrunched up his hands into fists, forcing himself not to turn his head. He kept his gaze level with the man's, proud of himself. He would not be cowed by this man.

"It would be wise not to kill me," the boy whispered.

He was surprised at how calm his voice sounded. The man raised an eyebrow.

"And why's that?"

The boy shrugged, hoping he seemed nonchalant. "Because otherwise you'll never find where I put your secret weapon."

The man visibly stiffened, his eyes narrowing. Suddenly, with inhuman speed, the man lashed out and grabbed the boy's shirt, pulling him closer.

"What have you done?" he hissed.

The boy swallowed down the lump that had formed in his throat. "I just took out my insurance policy. You won't kill me while I'm the only person who knows where it is. I know you need it."

The man growled angrily and threw the boy across the room, where he landed heavily on his side. With a frustrated wave of his hand, he motioned for one of the guards near the boy to pick him up and restrain him. The boy didn't offer much resistance as the guard clamped a set of handcuffs around his wrists and turned him over to his boss.

"That may be true kid, but I'll get it out of you. You're going to wish that you never messed with Nikolei Drevin."

The boy shuddered at the name but allowed him to lead him away, back through the corridors he'd just traversed. He just hoped that he'd given Alex enough time to get away.

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_Oooooo!!! Who is the mysterious boy who was buying time for Alex? How is Drevin still alive? And how is the boy connected to Drevin?_

_And.... WHAT IS THE SECRET WEAPON!!?? i guess you'll find out whenever i update... and please review!! i like critisism... whether constructive or otherwise... it'll help get this story going!! thanks!!_


	2. The Truth

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Alex Rider**

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Alex squeezed himself out of the skylight, his whole body aching for some unknown reason. He pulled himself upright on the rooftop, glancing around. The roof he was on slanted only slightly, as did the roof directly opposite him. Standing carefully, he slid closer to the edge so he could see how far above the ground he was. His head swam as he saw the five story drop and he quickly scrambled away from the guttering.

Alex took a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart. He had to get off this roof and away from the building – away from the people inside it too. He didn't remember much about what had happened while he was inside the building. His only memories were from the moment after the boy had woken him. Alex didn't know why he was wearing the white crew shirt or the white shorts. He didn't know why his skin prickled all over or why his vision blurred every now and then. All he knew was that the boy had ordered him to get out of the building using any way but the obvious exits.

So he had. Resting on the roof, Alex leaned back to glance into the skylight again.

He remembered hurrying out of a nondescript room and into a hallway, the boy going in a different direction after whispering something of great importance into his ear. Alex had heard the boy clearly but didn't understand what the words meant.

"…_wish that you never messed with Nikolei Drevin."_

Alex shuddered as he heard the voice. His eyes widened as he stared into the skylight. He may not remember much but he remembered that voice. A voice he'd not heard in a long time and had thought never to hear again – and was glad of it. But there was no doubt about who spoke as the words drifted up to him. They sounded close, but Alex couldn't see anyone.

Filled with a sudden desire to get away from the voice, Alex stood and without a further thought, ran down the slope of the roof and launched himself across the void between the two buildings. His hands were flung out in front of him and he crashed into the tiles on the neighbouring roof, gripping on tightly to whatever he could.

Once he'd regained his footing, Alex scurried across the roof. He straddled the apex and surveyed the area he was in. It was foreign to him. He didn't recognise any of the streets that branched away from the one he was in, nor could he find any identifiable landmarks. Biting his lip, he began searching for a path away from the next door building.

Some instinct took over and within seconds, he had memorised a route out. As he slid down the other side of the roof, the one furthest from the building he'd just escaped, he wondered about the boy. He hoped he'd managed to get away so that he could thank him and ask him what he'd meant by his parting words.

Squatting in the gutter of the roof, Alex took a firm hold of the flimsy metal and swung himself over the edge, so that he was dangling in thin air, suspended only by his hands gripping the gutter. He quickly glanced to his right then his left and finally spotted it, just as the metal gutter groaned under his weight. He had to keep moving or else he'd fall and land heavily on nothing but cement. So he sidled over to the down pipe and grabbed on tightly.

As silently as he could, he lowered himself down the drain pipe, wincing every time the rusting metal bit into his skin. When he was a meter from the ground, he released his hold on the pipe and dropped, landing lightly on his feet, like a cat. Then he took off at a run, following some instinct that he couldn't name.

***

The boy, a seventeen year old by the name of Weston Harper, stared defiantly up at Nikolei Drevin, his hands balled into fists so that the man wouldn't see them shaking. He had been tied tightly to a chair in Drevin's office, his wrists and ankles already going numb.

"Why are you here Wes?" Drevin demanded.

He had dismissed his guards the moment he was sure that the boy was secured sufficiently. The two were alone and neither was happy about being in the presence of the other.

The boy swallowed down a lump in his throat and answered.

"Somebody had to get Alex out of here and hide your stupid weapon."

"But why you? Shouldn't you be at school?"

Wes shook his head. "Nah, mum doesn't mind. She's happy as long as you're not going to get away with whatever you're planning."

Drevin growled at the reference to the boy's mother. He knew that his ex-wife had remarried and that her new husband had brought his only child from a previous relationship into the family, giving his son Paul a step brother. And here he sat, Gavin Harper's – CIA explosives extraordinaire – only biological son.

"Where did you take my weapon Wes?" Drevin asked.

Wes watched as the man who had been presumed dead until two days ago filled a glass with wine. As Drevin sipped it casually, he watched the boy opposite him. He'd never seen the boy before but he had all of his father's good looks. Wes's dark brown hair was spiky and his skin was a soft caramel colour, which complimented his chocolate brown eyes.

Stubbornly, Wes kept his gaze on Drevin, his heart thudding loudly in his chest. He didn't say a word.

"Weston," Drevin said in a soft warning tone. "This is not advisable."

Wes shrugged. He just hoped that Alex had managed to get himself away from this town and into a safe area where he could stay out of trouble.

"Well if you're not going to tell me where you've taken my weapon then may I ask where Alex Rider has gone."

"You can ask, but don't expect an answer," Wes replied.

Drevin took another sip of wine then placed it down on his desk. Slowly he stood and walked around until he was standing in front of his prisoner. Drevin lent back on his desk, surveying the boy. He looked scared but defiant. It shouldn't be too hard to crack him, he thought.

"Do you know where he is going?"

"Isn't that the same question?" Wes stated.

Drevin shook his head. "I think that you told him to go somewhere that would be far away from here. And do you want to know why I think that?"

"No."

Drevin went on anyway. "I think you told him to hide himself because he knows where the weapon is. And all you know is that the weapon is with Rider. You don't actually know where Rider is taking the weapon; you just want to buy him time to get away with it."

Wes didn't say anything but just looked at Drevin as though he was bored. Inside his heart was bumping wildly at the man's accurate guess. But if he wanted to live, Wes knew that he must make it look as though Drevin had guessed wrong.

He knew that Drevin would have already sent a team of his best to get Alex back and while he was a prisoner, there wasn't much he could do to help Rider. He just had to hope that Rider still had as much luck and skill as he'd had four years ago when he'd first been recruited by MI6. And Wes was not going to sit around being the perfect picture of compliance; he would find a way of helping Rider from this side, even if it killed him.

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_Hope you like it so far! Please review as it will encourage me to write faster!! Thanks for the support though…_


	3. Instinct

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Alex Rider**

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Alex Rider sat quietly on the train, his head resting tiredly against the glass of the window. The glass was cool, a pleasant relief from the muggy heat outside. A man sat beside him, concentrating on the newspaper in his hands. Alex paid him no attention, his thoughts acted as enough of a distraction.

Who was the boy who'd rescued him and why had he done it? As far as Alex could remember, he wasn't someone that he'd known. So why had a complete stranger come to his rescue, forsaking his own life in the process? And for that matter, what had Alex needed saving from? Why couldn't he remember?

Frustrated, Alex bumped his head softly against the window, closing his eyes and listening to the soft dull thud of his skull against glass. But the more Alex tried to remember what he'd been through, the foggier the memories got. Absentmindedly, he scratched at his chest, just above his heart. It was unbelievably itchy but stubbornly Alex pushed this detail from his mind. He had more important issues to be dealing with and an itchy old scar was not one of them.

Suddenly Alex felt like he was being watched. Surreptitiously, he slid his eyes across to find the man sitting next to him staring at him. There was a concerned look in his eyes and a slight frown on his face. Alex quickly studied the man. Short clean gray hair, a fresh face and startling bright blue eyes that bore an abundance of emotion – nothing that shouted killer or kidnapper.

Alex turned his whole head and stared the man down.

"What?"

The man lowered his newspaper and cleared his throat. "Are you alright?"

Alex couldn't help himself. Once again he found himself searching the man's eyes for further motive. Finding nothing, the boy sighed.

"Yeah I'm fine, just frustrated. Thanks though."

The man nodded, still looking concerned. He lifted his newspaper back up and continued to read. Alex turned back to the window, trying to calm himself down. His memories would return in their own time and until then he had to figure out the next most important thing – what the boy had whispered to him as they parted.

His thoughts churned as the train continued south. It wasn't long before Alex became restless. His right leg was jiggling up and down constantly while his hands fiddled mindlessly with the bottom of his shirt.

Minutes before his station appeared, Alex once again felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end and his ears redden. His eyes slid quickly over to the man but he was still engrossed in his newspaper. So someone else on the train was watching him.

For the third time that day, Alex let his instincts take over him. He knew that he couldn't turn around as that would give him away, let his followers know that he knew someone was watching him. So instead, Alex stood up and excused himself to the man, waited until his neighbour had removed himself from Alex's way and then began walking down the aisle of the train carriage.

He slipped into the carriage joiner, breathing a sigh of relief when he found it empty. Glancing around him, he saw the doors of the train on both sides of him and a chemical toilet off to his left. In front of him was the entry to the next carriage.

Alex moved quickly to his right, hoping that his followers would instinctively look left first – in the direction of the toilet. But even if they did, it wouldn't matter. His stop was the next one and he could see the platform coming into view already as the train slowed.

As the train continued to slow, the door opened behind him and Alex tensed, ready for anything. His muscles were coiled, ready to strike but his body looked relaxed. Alex was reminded of his days working for MI6 but he forced those dark thoughts out of his mind.

A man stepped into his peripheral vision and Alex froze. The man had a newspaper tucked under his arm and a briefcase in his hand. Alex recognised the man who had sat next to him for the majority of the train trip but frowned. Surely he couldn't…?

Then the door opened again and two men clad in trench coats stepped into the small connecting carriage. They glanced left like Alex had suspected they would and then turned to see Alex in the corner. Alex watched them carefully, unwilling to do anything in front of a civilian. But neither man moved, just stood there, swaying silently with the train's rhythm, watching him. Apparently they were as unwilling as Alex to involve any unnecessary people.

The train squealed to a halt and the doors opened with a hiss. Alex glanced away quickly and leapt onto the platform. He was running before his feet hit the ground.

He pushed his way through the crowd, ignoring disgruntled commuters, focusing on just getting away. Footsteps followed him as he dashed down a flight of stairs into an underground tunnel that would take him back up onto street level. Alex pushed himself, knowing he could go faster than what he was currently going but his legs didn't seem to want to work properly. They felt heavier than normal.

Suddenly something slammed into his back and he went flying against the tunnel wall. His shoulder hit the bricks hard and he cried out in pain as he felt his shoulder dislocate. Alex spun, forcing his mind to forget the pain in his shoulder and focus on his attackers instead.

One of the men was picking themselves up of the ground, while the other caught up. Alex sprang into action. His instincts told him what to do and his body did the rest. With incredible speed, Alex's foot soared around in a roundhouse kick and slammed into the man who had knocked him into the wall. The man went down with a grunt but Alex didn't have time to congratulate himself. The other man had caught up and was coming at Alex with a knife.

In a move that Ian had taught him many years ago, Alex sidestepped the knife, grabbing the man's arm on the follow through and bringing it down hard on his knee. The man cried out and dropped the knife. Alex didn't wait for the man to recover, driving his palm into the man's face. He heard his nose crunch and watched as the man fell to his knees, clutching at his nose with his uninjured hand.

The other man was beginning to rise again so Alex leant over him and applied a little bit of pressure on his temple and the man slumped, unconscious.

Alex glanced down the tunnel, checking that it was still relatively empty before walking away. His shoulder screamed at him and he knew that he needed to push it back into place but he wasn't brave enough to do it himself. He didn't want to risk pushing it back in only to find out later that it wasn't in correctly and was pinching a nerve. So for the moment he left it dangling limply at his side and made his way out of the station as casually as he could.

***

Wes paced up and down in his cell. Time was passing incredibly slowly. He felt as though he'd been in this empty room for days when in reality it had only been two hours. His stomach hurt where he'd been punched and his wrists were still sore from being restrained during his interrogation. Drevin had inflicted little physical torture on him and that made Wes wary.

If Drevin suspected that he knew anything, wouldn't it be logical for him to try and get it out of him? He could be torturing him right now but Wes had no visitors. Not that he wanted to be subjected to immense amounts of pain, no far from it. He was just curious and wary of why nothing ill had befallen him.

The hours ticked by and Wes grew more and more tense as his unease heightened. When he was finally visited by sleep, he tossed and turned, dark memories giving way to his horribly vivid imagination. Waking was not much better but at least he didn't see his mother's death over and over in his mind's eye.

It wasn't until late the next afternoon that Wes received anything from the outside world. A man opened the heavy metal door to Wes's cell and waited cautiously as another placed a foam cup on the ground beside the door, along with a piece of stale bread.

Then they left, locking the door behind them.

It wouldn't have mattered whether they locked it or not, Wes thought bitterly. There was no doorknob on his side anyway.

He moved swiftly over to his meager offerings and devoured the bread in a second. The water he drank slowly, savouring the feeling as it soothed his dry throat. When he finished, he left the cup where the guards had placed it and returned to his original position, sitting hunched in the corner. He stayed like that for hours, waiting for anything – something – to happen.

But it wasn't until five days later that Wes's situation changed.

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_Please review!! It'll mean a lot!! Any questions, comments… don't hesitate to review and I'll answer them as best I can. I hope you all like the story so far… and a HUGE thanks to those who reviewed previously!!_

_Also, I have a story up on FictionPress that might interest you if you like action/romance and suspense. Just look up verbalalchemist under author and you'll find it!! And if you can be bothered to read it – which I really hope you can – please review and I'll post some more of it for you! Thank you!_


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